


Let Me

by nhpw



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dom Misha, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, One Shot, Sub Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: They're due at Paleyfest in just a few hours, and Jensen is antsy about the fans and press awaiting them.Misha offers a solution.





	Let Me

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings!
> 
> This is just a short one-shot, inspired by the cast's appearance at Paleyfest 2018, where Jensen was more than a little... hands-on... with Misha.
> 
> Not beta'd, barely proofread... so apologies in advance for mistakes!

Jensen fidgeted with his jacket cuffs. Fidgeted with his collar.

Took off the suit jacket entirely and reached into his closet for a sweater instead.

He buttoned it all the way up, but that looked stupid, so he unbuttoned the top button.

Raked his fingers through his hair.

Huffed out a sigh, bit his lip, shook out his arms, bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Undo another button.”

At the voice, Jensen drew in a sharp inhale and tensed a moment before letting the breath out in a huff. “Jesus, Mish!”

Misha entered the room fully, his chin ducked, hands in his pockets, but eyes upcast to meet Jensen’s. He had that quiet way about him that he got, usually, before they did big events like this - like he was meditating, but without being in an actual position for meditation.  _ Reflection _ , Misha had told him once.  _ I’m tapping into the wit and wisdom of my stage persona _ . Whatever the reason for it, Jensen found he loved it - when Misha came close, it tended to sooth Jensen’s nerves as well.

It was that way now, in the solace of a hotel room in LA, with less than an hour to go before they would be collected and shuttled to Paleyfest. Misha came up behind him and, after resting his chin on Jensen’s shoulder for a beat, brought his arms around Jensen’s torso and up to the sweater buttons to undo a second one. “There.”

“Hmmm.”

He let Misha hold him like that, unmistakably the comforting embrace of a lover, the two of them studying their reflection in the mirror and not saying a word, for an unmeasurable stretch of time. He suspected Misha was willing him to stay relaxed, and perhaps waiting for him to speak - but Jensen had nothing to say, really, so he just let himself melt into the embrace until Misha finally opened his mouth.

“Tell me something,” he said, speaking to their mirrored reflections rather than to Jensen directly. “ _ Why is it  _ that you can be carefree as all hell in a panel, you can speak to a crowd of thousands, you can sing your heart out with all the confidence of a real rock star… but media circuit bullshit like this gets you so rattled you can barely dress yourself?”

“I can dress myself just fine, asshole.”

“You forgot to put on socks.”

Jensen dropped his chin and eyed his bare toes before looking back up into the mirror. “I just hadn’t gotten that far yet.” He tried really hard to keep the pout off his face, but it definitely didn’t stay out of his voice. Misha didn’t respond with anything more than a bemused grin and a hitch of a silent chuckle, and he didn’t say anything else, either, so after a moment of quiet, Jensen sighed. “I don’t know. It’s like… It’s…” He turned in abruptly in the circle of Misha’s arms, bringing them face to face, and wrung his hands at his sides. “I don’t have any control over what happens out there. When I’m on stage, when I sing, I’ve got-- I’m in charge of that. It’s routine, I know exactly what’s going to happen and how it’s going to go and there aren’t a whole lot of unknowns. No wild cards. I can revel in it because it’s familiar. Things like this, I dunno…” He looked at the ceiling, effectively rolling his eyes at his own anxiety. “Zero control. I have no idea what a press junket’s going to ask, going to say, going to photograph. Reporters can be assholes, you know that as much as I do. Ain’t nobody screening their questions, either.”

“Mmm. True.” Misha nodded, and his face took on a thoughtful look. He turned his head to look out the window that was to his left. Just when Jensen started to think that maybe Misha wasn’t going to say anything else, that he was once again waiting for Jensen to speak, the shorter man turned his head back to face Jensen and kissed him squarely on the lips.

It caught Jensen by surprise, and he yelped, but when Misha didn’t immediately pull away, Jensen relaxed his body and his mouth, letting Misha take the kiss deeper, and opening his mouth to the silent request of Misha’s tongue.

He melted into the kiss in the same way he’d melted into Misha’s arms minutes before - his body relaxed, his mind settled, and he brought his hands to rest on Misha’s hips and his eyes drift closed as they kissed, until he was completely lost in the sensation of the moment.

When Misha broke the kiss, Jensen opened his eyes and found those soothing blue pools looking at him expectantly. “Did you know I was going to do that?” Misha’s voice was only as loud as it needed to be in order to be heard from a breath away, and when Jensen answered, he adopted the same tone without his body’s permission.

“No.”

“Did you have control of that kiss?”

“No.” He chuckled silently in his chest at that. No. No he had not. Not at all.

“Was it amazing anyway?”

“You’ve made your point, I think. But this is different. The crowds, and the reporters, and I just...”

“And that’s why we have security. And it’s why you can just tell reporters  _ no comment _ \- you do know you actually have that right, I assume?”

“Sure, but--”

“And you’ll have Danneel. And.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one shorter, just a whispered touch of lips to lips, “You’ll have me.”

That’s some sappy-ass shit, Mish.”

Something dark came over Misha’s face then, like a shadow, and his eyes blinked into an unmistakable gaze Jensen had only ever seen in the bedroom. “Then you misunderstood me. Jensen.” Misha’s arms tightened into a possessive embrace, one hand finding its way into Jensen’s hair and the other grabbing firmly at his ass, and those smouldering eyes didn’t leave Jensen’s for even a fraction of a second. “I’ve seen you surrender to a lack of control  _ beautifully _ . You put all your trust in me to take care of you and it’s the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen. So. Do that tonight.”

Jensen felt the heat rise in his cheeks and warmth spread through his belly at Misha’s allusion to their bedroom activities. “You want me to bring my subby side to Paley?”

“Mmhmmm.” And then those sinful lips were on his again, kissing, coaxing, strong fingers massaging his scalp and his ass and Jensen couldn’t hold back a whimper as he let Misha control the kiss. “You do it so naturally and I love…” Misha pulled back enough to bite Jensen’s bottom lip, to pull just enough with his teeth to make the younger man groan, but not enough to draw blood, “I love when you lean on me. I love supporting you, making you stronger. So let me do that for you tonight.”

Jensen shook his head, but it was more in wonder than in disbelief. “You want me to sub for you. In public. At Paley.”

“At least until we get through the junket. Use it as your security blanket. No one will know, Jensen. It’ll be our little secret.”

“I do like having secrets with you.”

At that, Misha chuckled darkly and nosed along Jensen’s jaw, where he licked and nibbled a path up to the ear before sucking the earlobe into his mouth. “And later… after you’ve been a  _ very  _ good boy… I’m sure you know I’ll reward you.  _ Also  _ our little secret.” Then he backed off and brought his arms down to take Jensen’s hands and intertwine their fingers loosely. “You need to finish getting dressed,” he said, tone still low, but with an edge and an arched brow that hadn’t been there before. “The coat looks fine with two buttons down, but you should wear socks.” He turned and grabbed a random pair from Jensen’s suitcase and handed them over. 

Jensen looked down at the sock ball, and then back at his boyfriend, one eyebrow quirked. “These mine or yours?”

“They’re clean, is what they are. Put them on, grab your shoes, and come on out front. I hear voices. It’s getting about time to go. And hey.”

“Hmmm?”

Misha’s eyebrows both went up in earnesty. “I love you.”

Jensen nodded. “I love you, too.”

With that, MIsha was gone, and Jensen shook his head at the goofy socks in his hand before sitting down on the side of the bed to pull them on his feet.

He suspected they were Misha’s, and he was glad.

That alone made him feel better already.


End file.
